


The Picky Customer and the Prickly Elf

by SerpentPrince



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Modern Thedas, Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentPrince/pseuds/SerpentPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new barista working at Haven cafe. Dorian notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enter the picky asshole with a moustache

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen far over the past year. First basic 'what-if?' fics, then really cute shippy fics and now a coffee shop AU. I don't regret it. This is really fricking fun to write, especially playing the 'how much dragon age inquisition plot/little easter eggs I can include' game. My favourite one is finding a place to use 'Herald of andraste' that fit the fic.
> 
> This will be a multi-chapter fic, I have a couple chapters already done.

There was a line today, it was a small cafe that had no hipster attracting gimmick so it never often had a line. Dorian had been here a couple of times to feed his caffeine addiction before work, often when his regular coffee shop was packed to the brim. He may like fine coffee, but he refused to wait for more than ten minutes to get it, so on those days he got mediocre coffee at the creatively named ‘Haven Coffee.’ (The shop was on Haven street) The line at his regular was even longer so he stayed and as he gotten closer to the front if the line he heard many of the same questions being asked over and over again. 

“Are those real?” 

“Did those hurt?”

“Are you from the wilds?” 

A male voice would answer each time, it wasn’t familiar, it wasn’t one of the usual morning baristas, (Dorian was put off by the better coffee house’s lines often) Cassandra, a tough woman with an accent, or Sera, an interesting young elven lady who was horrible at her job. 

No, this voice wasn’t familiar in the slightest, but the man seemed to be quite an interest by how many questions people asked him. All Dorian could see where he was standing was a full head of blond locks so he had to wait to get a look at the new guy which was infuriating.  
In what felt like forever as the last person in the line of the morning coffee rush, the ridiculously large man (the man probably had some Qunari blood somewhere in his bloodline) in front of him received his order and moved out of the way. 

Dorian was caught off guard by what he saw; the new barista was elven, that was obvious with the thin frame and exceptionally long pointed ears, but what surprised Dorian was his face. The elf had wolfish yellow eyes with irises rimmed with orange and he had intricate tattoos inked into his face. Getting facial tattoos like the Dalish had become a controversial hipster fashion lately, but by the way the elf held himself and by the way an old scar cut through his very real tattoos, Dorian knew he was looking at the real deal.  
“Sir, are you going to order?” The Dalish barista sounded and looked annoyed. 

“Ah, yes a moment please,” the wild eyes of the elf rolled. Dorian planned to order his usual, but a couple moments of admiring this unique creature was hard to resist. He had dark black tattoos across the bridge of his nose to his entire forehead (He assumed that it was symmetrical since hair covered around half of his forehead), all the lines were connected except the black lines which were under his lip and a spot above his brow in which a scar left a gap. The man also had rather pretty hair for a so called elven savage, it traveled past his jaw in length with slight waves. It definitely was well cared for. 

“Dorian!” An accented and stern voice cut through the dark haired man’s observations. He supposed he might had been at this tiny little cafe more than once, since the workers did know his name and usual order by heart. (Since Dorian was tired of being called ‘the picky asshole with a moustache’) “What are doing antagonizing the new guy!?” Cassandra got irritated very quickly or at least she always sounded irritated by her accent. 

“I’m just curious,” Dorian smiled like a cat who got the cream 

With a dirty look Casssandra turned to the elf, “Shall I take this order for you?” 

“No, I need to learn how to deal with more than just this annoying shemlen,” his accent only came up when he uttered an elven word; he also spoke softly, but still loud enough that Dorian would hear. 

“Very well, his usual order is a nonfat, no-whip, Mocha with milk and an espresso shot. ” The woman listed off an obnoxiously long order and the Dalish man pulled a face. 

“Is that what you’ll be having today, sir?” The elf’s words were polite, but Dorian could tell he was holding off a scowl. 

“Let’s go with something different today!” The moustache man said with faked cheeriness, “How about a low fat latte, with an extra espresso shot and skim milk, to go.” The Tevinter man belted off a different order that elf made a face at. 

“That will be 4.50 sir.” The elf sounded like he rehearsed the lines over and over again. 

Dorian passed the elf a five dollar bill, “Keep the change.” The elf gave the Mage another less than amused glance before going off to prepare the coffee. He turned his attention to Cassandra who watched the entire transaction, “What happened with service with a smile?” 

“I have never offered that service.” Cassandra was as lovely as ever. 

“Oh yes, I forgot that you are always this lovely.”

“I haven’t forgotten that-“

“Oh look, there’s my coffee!” The blond elf was rather quick at making drinks; he held out the disposable cup to the Tevinter man. Dorian took the cup; brushing his hand against the elf’s on purpose and his thin elven hand jerked away. 

The elf’s intense yellow eyes focused on Dorian’s, “I hope you have a nice day,” the elf’s said flatly. They stared at each other for a time as if this was some sort of dominance thing, (the only things Dorian knew about Dalish culture was the tattoos and living in the forest like animals thing, so it could very well had been something) but Dorian was interrupted by his internal clock, if he lingered longer he would be later than acceptably late so he let the elf have this one. 

“I hope you have a very nice day as well,” Dorian was being polite, but probably like everyone ever, the elf would likely take it as sarcasm. Dorian walked out the cafe’s door taking a sip of his coffee. It wasn’t at all what he ordered, it was sweeter and less creamier than what his complex order should have got him, but it was good. It was better than good. Dorian couldn't place the flavour to a name, he just hoped the secret ingredient wasn't elf spit.


	2. Nug Skinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Sera, the barista who doesn't care about her job, just giving pretentious assholes their just desserts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but this one is honestly my favourite. I love Sera.

The Tevinter man went to the cafe every day that week, but he had seen of the elf was a blur of blond returning to the kitchen after refilling the display. Today Sera was at the counter and if the line at the other place was just long instead of ridiculously long, he would have left since Sera has been known to spit or put things in the coffee if someone displeased her for being a 'uppity prick.' 

Dorian was pretty sure she had gotten fired at one point during an explosive blowout that happened between Cassandra and her, smack dab in the busy cafe. 

"What'ta you want today," the elf looked him in the eye almost daring him to order his usual pretentious beverage. This wasn't a game he was going to play again since he always lost, the elf purposely messed up the drinks and unlike the Dalish elf her mix-ups didn't lead to a tasty drink. 

"I will have a expresso in a to-go cup," Sera went off to make the drink and Dorian watched her closely, luckily with a simple drink like that it didn't give her the chance to 'accidentally' put salt instead of sugar in the drink. (She had done that before to him) 

Dorian passed the usual amount of cash over to the elf in exchange for the coffee, he was about to move over to the condiment table for sugar when he remembered the blond elf he was hoping to see again. 

"Sera? What happened to the Dalish elf that was working here?" 

"You too? Seems like everyone wants to gawk at Mr. elfy-elf." 

"He is interesting." 

"I'm surprised, you another one of his admirers?" 

"I'm just curious," the Dalish elf was attractive, but he was much more of a curiosity to the Tevinter man. Honestly. 

"I don't think he's into humans, being an Dalish. You never know though, I imagine the elf would be wild within the sheets, biting, scratching-"

"Sera!" This was not the kind of thing Dorian would like to speak with the lady who sometimes made his coffee. 

The elf gave a fiendish chuckle, "He's working in the back with Bull and Solas, captain Cullen was concerned about Mr. Dalish's fan-club just buying one cup and staring at him all day so he has the elf alternating between the two jobs." 

Dorian made a noise of acknowledgement before turning away to add his own sugar and cream to his drink. 

"I don't recommend you do the elf. I'm pretty sure he knows at least three ways to skin a nug! And if he could skin those ugly hairless things, he could skin other things like your p-" 

Dorian grabbed his sugar packets and rushed out the door before Sera could finish her sentence.


	3. Dorian Unknowingly Eats Nug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian gets more than just coffee than the coffee shop for once. 
> 
> And enter Bull, the annoyingly big Qunari baker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the next. I quite like writing Bull, not as much as writing for Sera, but Bull is still fun.

 Dorian was tired, beyond tired really. Even his large cup of coffee from his regular shop wasn’t enough to completely rouse him so that’s why he was going to Haven coffee shop at lunch. Not for another reason like an interesting elf that may or may not be working at noon. That would be absurd.  

The coffee shop wasn’t the furthest thing from his work, though his regular coffee shop was a bit closer, but it was beyond crowded during noon, this one was usually a little less.  

When Dorian reached it, he noticed a slew of people waiting in line through the large windows, but he also noticed something different. 

There was a chalk board by the doorway. He moved closer to the busy cafe out of curiosity. The sign advertised a special, ‘Mage cake - $5.99.’ 

Dorian scowled at the sign; Mage cakes were a new fad that was a siren’s call for today’s hipsters. They were small oddly shaped cakes covered in pretty designs and colours, named because the talented people who could make them were definitely mages.  

The Tevinter man still went in and waited his turn; a frown due to his impatience on his face for the majority of the time until he saw the blond waves of a certain barista. The Dalish elf wasn’t running the cash register, instead the elf was making the coffee and fetching things for Cassandra who was. It seemed to be a rather inefficient way of doing things. 

They seemed to be having difficulty with the increased amount of customers. Maybe that would teach them to stop being 'trendy.’ 

He watched the customers leaving with a coffee and what Dorian assumed was a Mage Cake in their hands. They were rather pretty, the icing on the cakes was a neon green mixed with hues all of kinds making it look something like a fluctuating portal into an alien realm.  

He gave Cassandra a winning grin as he reached the front and the woman made a disgusted noise in her throat before asking him what he wanted.  “I would like my usual coffee… And I’ll guess I’ll try one of your famous Mage cakes.” 

Cassandra didn’t seem fazed at all by the lunch rush; she faced the challenge with a straight expression. On the other hand, the Dalish elf running around behind the counter, gathering cakes and retrieving other lunch items for the kitchen looked rather frazzled. 

The elf’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his mouth was pressed into a right frown his apron was absolutely covered in flour and sparkly green sugar was all over him, in his light hair, on his tanned skin and everywhere on his clothing. It looked as someone made a game of throwing sugar at him. 

“Do you want it to go?” Cassandra asked already taking a paper cup and a brown bag out.  He never once stayed to drink his coffee so the answer that came from his mouth surprised the strong woman.

“No, I’ll take it to stay. Actually could I add a…” Dorian looked up at the chalkboard menu above Cassandra, “Roasted ham sandwich?” He wasn’t going to eat nug and mutton seemed like it would be too fattening. “Oh, and don’t skimp on the lettuce.” Dorian had to take care of the gift the maker gave him. 

“That would be 15.50 then.” The woman was scowling at him, but that wasn’t at all out of the ordinary. Dorian fished out some cash from his Antivan leather wallet (Something that came with him from Tevinter) and moved to the waiting place. He could had taken a seat, but he instead watched the stressed elf do his job.  

Cassandra would repeat the orders to him and then he would move behind the counter, to the to-go customer’s waiting hands, to the tables and to the kitchen. All the Mage cakes in the display were gone, probably due to the demand for them so the elf kept ducking into the kitchen to grab one at a time. 

Until the elf got annoyed and it could be hurt across the cafe.  “By the dread wolf Bull! Can you not help?!" 

 The annoyance of the elf summoned a gigantic Qunari to step out the kitchen with a tray of the fancy Mage cakes. (Which looked ridiculously tiny against his wide chest and rippling biceps under a ridiculously tight shirt.) 

 “Whatever you say Boss.” The elf rolled his eye at the nickname, before trying to get back to making coffee, but the elf made a horrible mistake in bringing the massive Qunari out behind the counter. He blocked the way while he filled the display case.  The elf made a little annoyed sound at the back of his throat. He forgo the coffee and ducked into the kitchen. 

Without the elf to take up his attention, Dorian looked the Quanri’s way. He was sure he saw him around somewhere; probably on the street since a Qunari that size would be able to been seen anywhere. He really didn’t envy anyone who sat behind him at a movie theatre.

 The Qunari noticed him watching and wiggled his eyebrows and smirked as they made eye contact. Dorian dropped his gaze only for him to hear the creak of the kitchen door opening. Another glance revealed that the elf had a few sandwiches balanced on his arms. One of them, the elf pushed it over the clear desert display toward Dorian.

“Take a seat and I’ll bring the rest of your items,” the elf said dryly.  Dorian had a cheeky comment on the tip of the tongue, but didn’t get the chance before the elf scurried away to wriggle through the little amount of space he had behind the Qunarj, to the coffee machine.

 Dorian decided to listen for once and he took a seat at a small two person table that was somewhat near the resister and Cassandra. It was horribly plain. It was only meant for function, actually, maybe it was the designer’s goal was making an ugly eye sore of a matching table and chairs. The other cafe had nicer tables; they were all made of red tinted glass in a Tevinter style. But when Dorian took a seat he had to concede that these abominations were more comfortable.

 The Qunari had retreated back to the kitchen’s after exchanging a few words with the elf that Dorian didn’t catch.  And then the elf was delivering beverages and cakes to tables while balancing them on a tray. Until the elf only had a combination pair of a drink and a cake, he then moved Dorian’s direction.  He place a warm drink and a plate with a heavily iced Mage cake on the table.

“Here you go serah.”  

“Thank you-” And Dorian took the chance to get a glance at the little name tag pinned to his chest. “-Herald of Andraste.”  The elf’s eyes widened in surprise as he turned his eyes to his own name tag. 

“May the dread wolf take them all,” He spat out a weird phrase under his breath before forcefully ripping the pin from the fabric of his shirt. 

 “So I take it that isn’t your name?” Maybe it was Sera? Or the giant Qunari? The though of Cassandra doing anything 'fun’ was bizarre. 

“It isn’t, it’s just a ridiculous joke,” the elf’s face was a little red underneath his heavy black tattoos; whether it was from embarrassment or rage Dorian could tell.  

“How ridiculous is it? A fine specimen like you could be considered an idol to the masses; that happens to me all the time.”  

Surprisingly enough the elf didn’t turn redder instead he held his own, “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Ouch, that was cold. It wasn’t as cold as it could have been since the elf’s quirked into something that resembled a smile. 

Dorian wasn’t given a chance to respond; the elf began walking away as soon as the cruel sentence slipped his lips.

 Maybe Sera was right about the elf’s preferences; but he doubted that. His yellow eyes wandered just a bit.  Dorian put the striking elf out of his mind to tend to his rumbling stomach. 

The sandwich was a bit unusual, the ham was really soft and tender, but it still tasted good.

The Mage cake was the next thing; it was a bit of self-indulgence that he would probably regret later with the excessive amount of green food dye (the cake was really green, Dorian knew nothing of baking, but it was most certainly food dye likely staining his beautiful white teeth green for a day or two) 

He snapped a picture of it before eating. (He could swear he could feel Cassandra rolling her eyes at him from the till) The first bite was pleasant, perhaps a little too sweet, and the second one was the same.  And before long Dorian engulfed the entire treat with a gusto that his former Tevinter etiquette teacher would have had a stroke from.

His eyes moves back to the counter, the lunch rush had calmed down and Cassandra wasn’t making the 'Herald of Andraste’ do all the running around. He must have been on his break by the way he leaned on the counter with a mug in his hands. The elf didn’t take in account the heavy steam hovering over the cup as he took a sip. The elf flinched back and made a face before feeling eyes on him. 

Yellow eyes met his and it Dorian felt like he was in some sort of cheesy romantic comedy until the 'Herald of Andraste’ broke eye contact and moved into the kitchen.  Dorian would swear to anything that the elf’s cheeks reddened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Bull as baker/food assembler (?), he's not one that makes the fancy cakes though (that's Solas!) He's one that makes sandwiches and bread/other less fancy things like cookies and he also takes out the trash and grabs things from higher shelves for everyone who isn't ridiculously tall and strong. (Which is everyone but Cassandra since she doesn't ask for help)


	4. The one where they actually talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kerym and Dorian actually talk. 
> 
> Or this isn't only a coffee shop AU; it's also a bookshop one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm off to an isolated internet free cabin, but first here's a chapter.

Dorian worked at a small bookshop owned by his old mentor and friend, Alexius. It was a nice enough job and the company was delightful. Felix often hung out between the dusty isles of the books and he was always nice to be around. Alexius never nagged him to focus when he was taking to his son and even when when he wasn't, the work wasn't hard. 

Dorian had to open, dust, work as a cashier, help collectors find what sort of old book they wanted to buy, and close. He really had to do everything, since Alexius often traveled to chase phantom cures and treatments for Felix's incurable illness. It was a nasty thing, caught when Dark spawn surfaced (a rare event nowadays, since the surface tunnels have been mostly sealed) and attacked people, Felix and his mom being some of many. Felix was one of the lucky ones, he may have only a while to live, but at least he still lived, unlike his mother. Felix had accepted his oncoming death, but Alexius wouldn't.

Dorian was sure the man would do anything at this point, but there was unfortunately nothing to do. Dorian hoped his mentor wouldn't do anything extreme. 

They were gone again this week, but a certain collector was supposed to come in this morning. They expressed interest in an creaky old biased book from Orlais that (rudely) described the other countries and the people in the time of the book. 

Dorian liked his job. It was nice to be actually pulling his weight in the world, to be actually earning his money rather than living by his lineage and wealth. 

The little bell at the door tinged alerting Dorian of a customer. (Or a robber trying to add to their old book collection or just a stupid one, since there wasn't much else of value (and the books were always a hard sell) and the cash resister barely held any money.) 

The resister wasn't near the door so Dorian couldn't see; it was bad layout design on Alexius's part, but Dorian liked it this way; it gave him a bit of time to strike a pose before the customer came into sight. The Tevinter man put his coffee down and sat up straight in his chair. (Red Antivan leather, a present from Alexis, as a Tevinter man himself, he understood the necessity of luxuries) 

The person who came in's footsteps were too soft to hear as if they were wearing slippers. Finally he saw the customer, Blond hair, yellow eyes, tattooed face and pointed ears. It was the Dalish elf from the coffee shop. The elf's brow furrowed at seeing Dorian, it seems that the impression the elf had of him from the coffee shop wasn't good, but he didn't let any malice into his tone. 

"Do you have any books on Ancient elves?" He wouldn't have pegged the Dalish as a reader. 

"Depends on what you want; we have historical renditions and some old speculative books. I don't think we have anything elf written." The elf looked like he expected that answer by the resigned sigh that slipped his lips. 

"Anything pre-Tevinter invasion?" The elf's eyes were directly on Dorian; it was hard to maintain eye contact with the concentrated intensity in them. 

"Not that I know of; most of the books from that time are in museums." The elf's eyes were a wolflike gold with orange rimming the iris, they were striking and inhumanly exquisite. 

The elf said something under his breath in elvish; Dorian assumed a curse word. The Tevinter knew of the struggle the Dalish had with museums since it was often on the news; they liked reporting on protests and painting them in a violent light. The museums kept what remained of their culture in sterile glass boxes for the public to gawk at. Dorian wouldn't know what that felt like, but he imagine it didn't feel good. "We may have some reprints, but I'm not sure, I'll probably have to go through the back room." 

"I would appreciate if you could make the effort. Also, do you have any Elvish linguistic books?" 

"We do have a few of those; they are probably in a dark corner buried by a mountain of dust." Most of the linguistic books were like that; Dorian tended not to read from that section since they were duller than the aged herbalist literature on the properties of elfroot. 

"Are they not popular?" 

"Not many people care for horribly old language books that smell like death," that wasn't the fairest point since most of these books each had their own unique odour. For example the elfroot book smelt of fragrant plants and dust, though Dorian could have went without the crushed plant bits that tended to get everywhere every time the book was opened. "By looking at the bloodstains on the pages it is quite possible that someone had died on them." 

"My kind of books," The elf had a sense of humour! Was that a tiny smile? Was the grumpy Dalish warming up to him or was it a trick of the store's shitty lighting?

"Mine too, nothing says great reading like a large crusty bloodstain blotting out the ink!" 

There was a moment's pause; the elf seemed to be waiting for Dorian to guide him; he seemed to be the type to not waste words. Or maybe he was just one that didn't care to make conversation with a absolute stranger. Or acquaintance; yeah they had to be that by now. "Ok, the section is over here. I'll show you." Dorian guided the elf to the abandoned dusty corner. 

"If you would, please wear these gloves and be very careful while looking at the books." Dorian took out a pair of gloves from his pocket, they were simple plastic ones, and passed them to the elf. "It's policy, I can't let the books get even more ruined than they are." Dorian then heard the jingle of the door, that was probably the customer that called since two walk-ins in a few minutes was unheard of in this shop. As much as the elf interested him he had a job to do "They are on this shelf, I need to deal with the other customer now, so if you need something else call, or do a little dance or something." 

"Ma seran- thank you." Now that was definitely a smile. A very small one, but it still counted and made Dorian's heart flutter like a pining adolescent. 

The elf took no time in slipping on the gloves and reaching for a book. He no longer paid attention to Dorian in favour of reading. A man after my own heart, Dorian thought as he went to peddle a book.

**Author's Note:**

> I update a bit more often on my tumblr, serpent-prince. So if your really itching for a new chapter, it may already be there.


End file.
